Young Kings
by 16-horses
Summary: On her first day at the Holy Grail High School on Fuyuki Island, Arturia just wants to do as well as she can. Her academic life has barely begun, and she's already made friends and enemies... the most notable of which is everyone's favorite obnoxious blond, Gilgamesh. High School AU (obviously).


**This story was originally going to be a multi-chapter fanfic, but I ran into several problems, and so I've revised it to be a simple one-chapter story. Sorry if you were waiting for future chapters. Maybe in the future when life allows it I'll expand it again.**

 **Please note that I DO NOT ship Arturia/Gilgamesh, at least not a mutual relationship between them. This whole story is a tangle of unrequited love. If anyone's wondering about all the siblings mentioned, Arturia's brother and sister are Sir Kay and Morgan respectively, and Gilgamesh's little brother is Enkidu. Did I mention this was AU? Yeah, and Medea's brother isn't in the Fate franchise, but he is in the original myth. Look it up.**

 **All of the characters mentioned are the property of Type-Moon. Some of them are a little OOC, but this story isn't as strictly based on the original material as my other Fate fanfics. Medea's personality in particular is based on her personality in Carnival Phantasm.**

* * *

 _All across the world, young princes and princess are being raised to be kings and queens. When they turn sixteen, they are sent to complete their training at the Holy Grail High School, located on the modern but remote island of Fuyuki. When princes and princesses of all nations (and all temperaments) come together, rest assured: sparks will fly._

The first day of high school. The air felt dangerous.

Sixteen-year-old Arturia Pendragon parked her silver sports car, grabbed her backpack, and ran to the impressive double doors of the tall, clean-looking building. Scanning the crowd of navy blue uniform-clad students for a familiar face, she felt the sunshine on her face and smiled. She didn't know how long she had waited for this day, a new school in a new town, the school that trained Kings.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" said a low voice nearby. Arturia turned to see a girl a little taller than herself standing a couple feet away from her, her lavender waist-length hair thrown into a few fancy braids. Mysterious eyes smiled.

"I – I don't believe we know each other," Arturia said. "What's your name?"

"Princess Medea of Colchis." The girl smiled. "You?"

"Prince Arturia Pendragon of Britain."

Medea offered a wry smile. "Prince?"

Arturia laughed. "Yes, well, only male heirs are allowed to take the throne of Britain. No one – at least not back home – is supposed to know I'm a girl. Here on Fuyuki, though, I guess there aren't any secrets."

"Back in Colchis, we take whatever heir we've got."

* * *

The laughter of the two girls reached the ears of a giant of a teenager, hands stuck in his pockets, red hair sticking out every which way. He watched the girls walking toward the building, friendship forming fast between them, and smiled a smile that lit up his craggy face. He towered head and shoulders above everyone else, but he didn't mind. He barely felt students brushing by him as he placed his hands on his hips and scanned the masses.

Iskandar was waiting for his girlfriend.

At sixteen years old he looked twenty. At last he saw her, her hair so black it looked blue, big gold hoops in her ears. Cleopatra waved to Iskandar, and he in turn flung a hand up in greeting.

Cleopatra yanked a cell phone from her pocket, held it to her ear, and raised a finger in a 'just a minute' gesture. She at once became very agitated, judging by her facial expression and the hand she kept waving around. Iskandar stifled a snort of laughter and turned his head to once more watch his peers scurrying about in his shadow. At once someone slammed into him, and although Iskandar felt no more than a bump, the impact sent the other student sprawling on the ground. "Watch it, you mongrel! Why were you standing where I was running!?" the student demanded.

Iskandar raised an eyebrow. "Why were you running where I was standing?"

With a scoff the student picked himself up and lifted his chin in the unmistakable attitude of high rank, though Iskandar loomed almost a foot taller than him. Iskandar surveyed him. Slim and athletic-looking with long legs, the boy glared at the giant with ruby eyes, slit-shaped pupils closed to mere lines in his fury. Shiny blond hair spilled over his eyes, and he leaned forward a little to compensate for the weight of his gigantic backpack. He seemed a little out of breath, and not just with anger. Sweat stained his forehead.

Iskandar folded his big arms across his even bigger chest. "You couldn't see I was standing right there? I'm a little hard to miss, you realize." He wondered if Cleopatra would ever get off her phone. But he wanted to keep this boy talking. It always amused him to see men of any age trying to make a big deal out of themselves when they didn't even come up to his armpits.

"You big oaf, you should have stepped aside!"

"Well, aren't you the feisty little princeling? Where I come from, if two people walk into each other we just laugh it off."

"And where are you from?" the young man demanded. "Some miserable little country, probably, where they don't even bother to teach the royalty good manners."

"Hmm, well, you are right there. I'm Prince Iskandar of Macedonia."

By the way the boy looked at him, Iskandar guessed he never heard of Macedonia before. "Greece," he said at last.

"Pfft." The blond waved his hand in elegant dismissal. "Nothing to brag about."

"And what of you?" Iskandar asked, not at all offended. "I don't remember seeing you on the school bus."

"I don't need to take the bus, you bastard. I'm Prince Gilgamesh of Uruk. That's the capital of Mesopotamia, and much more to be feared than your little Greece."

Iskandar laughed, making Gilgamesh wince. "Oh, I have no doubt about it, Goldy. I'll be seeing you around," and he walked off toward his girlfriend, leaving Gilgamesh fuming.

"Goldy!?"

* * *

Arturia enjoyed that day as she never enjoyed school before. Learning the duties of kingship, along with the usual classes in math, science, English, etc. made her future as the ruler of Britain all the more real to her. She knew kings rarely led 'happy' lives, but Gad had given this role to her, and she would perform it to the best of her ability.

"It's a lonely job," she commented to Medea at lunch, sitting on a bench on the school grounds, basking in the pale sunlight. "No one really knows who you are, when you're a king."

"Or a queen." Medea took the peel off a tangerine in one long curlicue and arranged it on her plate. "Princess of Colchis isn't much of a title, really. But I suppose being a princess is about the same across the board."

Arturia dusted sandwich crumbs off her skirt. "It's strange going to a private school like this. All my life I've been taught by very exclusive tutors. My only classmates were my brother and sister and the sons of my father's knights."

"At least you had classmates. I have a brother, but he's that much younger than me that we weren't taught together. I was schooled all alone, until I turned sixteen. That's when you go here."

"Holy Grail High School." Arturia laughed, spraying crumbs all over Medea, who made a disgusted sound and wiped herself off with a napkin.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Medea growled.

After a pause, Arturia asked (not before swallowing), "Do you know anyone here? Besides me, I mean. The only person here I know is Princess Medb of Connacht."

"Oh, I know heaps." Medea pointed around with her plastic fork at the other students enjoying the sunny weather. "There's Jason, my ex-boyfriend and Prince of Iolcos; that's Atalanta, Princess of Arcadia; Hector, Prince of Troy; Achilles, Prince of Aegina… there's a lot more here."

"Friends of yours?"

"Hardly. Jason's a scumbag. Achilles keeps asking me to be his girlfriend, but I've learned my lesson. No more Greek princes for me. They're all obsessed with wars and claiming treasures and stuff like that. Not that there's anything wrong with treasure; it just makes them go weird. You should have heard Jason when I was still with him. Always going on about golden wool or something like that. Seriously, you can just buy that stuff at a craft shop. You don't have to go on a quest for it."

Arturia blinked at her. "Oka-a-y."

"What I want," Medea went on in a sappy voice, "is a thoughtful, sincere man of few words. Silence and contemplation are so much more to be desired than empty talk."

"Really," Arturia muttered under her breath, but Medea didn't hear. "And, of course, I'd like him to be at least decently cute, preferably blond. Jason's a bullhead, but he does have beautiful hair. Hair like… that!"

 _Do I even want to know?_ Arturia's gaze followed Medea's finger pointing to a bench thirty feet away. Two male students sat next to each other, arguing by the looks of it. One, well over six feet tall with bristling red hair, rested his arms on the back of the bench, throwing his head back as he laughed the livid expression on the face of his companion: a slightly-built boy with flawless skin, his striking blond hair catching the sun filtering through the boughs of a nearby tree.

Arturia's eyebrows arched; her eyelids dropped, trying to decide if she should be impressed or not. "You mean that dangerous-looking boy?"

"Yep." Medea propped her chin in her hands. "He's got hair like Jason's. It's beautiful. I mean, he is absolutely gorgeous."

"Who? Jason or that guy?"

"Him, of course!" Medea yelled, gesturing toward the blond boy.

"Medea, are you a flirt?"

The lavender-haired girl looked astonished. "A flirt? Me? Where did you get that idea?"

Arturia pressed her lips together. "Well…"

"Is it so strange for a woman to want a man in her life? Mine is a lonely soul. I need a man to follow, to admire, to pour my every affection out on."

"Well, don't scare him off," Arturia said, alarmed.

"Don't worry. I'll take this slowly." Medea wobbled to her feet and walked toward the two boys. Arturia watched her for a few moments, then followed her. With her appetite down the drain, she wanted to make sure Medea didn't do something stupid.

"Why do you think Macadamia's so worth bragging about?" the 'gorgeous' boy yelled as the two girls came within earshot.

"It's called Macedonia," the red-haired young man said.

"Whatever! What is it, except a worthless little corner of a peninsula."

"It may be small, but it's a powerful city-state."

"I'd kill myself if I was born in such an insignificant little plot as that!"

"Excuse me, boys," Medea said in a liquid voice and slithered onto the bench beside the blond boy. He drew away from her as Arturia looked on, bracing herself.

"Well, what's your name?" said the giant.

"Princess Medea of Colchis," and she tossed a braid over her shoulder.

"Prince Iskandar of Macedonia."

"Mm-hmm. Who's your heartbreaker friend?"

"Goldy? Oh, he's –"

The blond reared in his seat like a cobra. "I am Prince Gilgamesh of Mesopotamia."

Medea frowned. "Where's that?"

"You don't know where –"

"It's in the Middle East," Arturia interjected, and they all looked at her. Medea blinked. Iskandar offered a broad grin. Gilgamesh smiled for the first time, and at the sight of it Arturia's back turned icy cold. Without the hint of a smile, she said, "Princess Arturia Pendragon of Britain." She added the 'ess' to 'prince' on purpose. She didn't want to explain the whole 'male heir' thing to boys she didn't know.

Iskandar's eyes filled with her. "Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Princess Arturia. Won't you sit down?" He gestured to the place next to him.

"Princess? But you said –" Medea started.

"Why does she get to sit next to you?" Gilgamesh interrupted, his gaze glued on Arturia. He sounded a lot calmer, but not at all amiable.

"Well, he offered." Arturia didn't know where to look. She squeezed onto the little bit of bench left between Iskandar and the edge. On his other side, Medea, half-hanging off the edge, wriggled around a bit to get more of herself onto the bench, crushing Gilgamesh up against the Macedonian prince in the process. He looked like he wanted to bolt. Leaning forward, he looked around Iskandar at Arturia, who didn't appreciate the attention.

"So, Gilgamesh," said Medea, warming up to the blond, "how old are you?"

Arturia facepalmed.

"I'm sixteen, of course. Same as all the mongrels here."

Arturia jumped in her seat. Medea looked uneasy. "Er, mongrels?"

"That's what they all are here. Mongrels."

"Mongrels!?" Arturia yelled. "How dare you talk about people that way! It makes you no better than a – a – mongrel yourself!"

"How dare I!?" Gilgamesh tried to spring to his feet, but Medea grabbed the edge of his jacket and yanked him back down. "Mesopotamia is the center of the world! I'm going to be the king above all kings one day! That makes everyone else beneath me! And there's only one name for those below me – mongrels!"

"I'll show you mongrel!" Arturia lunged at him. She managed to drag him off the bench and down to the ground, where they scuffled for a few minutes before he kneed her in the stomach, thrust her off of him, and whipped to his feet. He scoffed. "My little brother can fight better than you."

"You have a little brother?" Medea leaned forward.

"Adopted. Believe me, he fights like a demon."

Arturia stood up, rubbing her stomach. "You fight like a girl. I think you're the demon."

Gilgamesh let out a small laugh then. Arturia winced. His eerie slit pupils kept expanding and contracting, fluctuating like a heartbeat. He smirked again, and for the first time she noticed his pierced ears. Why that meant anything to her, she couldn't say.

"Well, Princess Arturia, I think I will be looking forward to seeing you again. Most girls just crumble when I even look at them. But you've got an attitude. I like that."

"Dude, you have one heck of an ego." Arturia walked forward till she could feel Gilgamesh's breath on her face. He stood almost a head taller than her. But height didn't intimidate her. "Believe me when I say it will be more than a pleasure to kick you into the dust."

"We'll see who'll do the kicking, princess."

Arturia didn't give him a chance. Locking her knee, she drew her leg back for momentum, then swung it straight up, slamming into Gilgamesh's crotch. She sprang back as he doubled over with a strangled gasp. Iskandar guffawed. Medea squeaked. Nearby students, watching the spectacle, dissolved into laughter at the sight of Gilgamesh, crumpled on his knees, gripping the sore spot, and squeaking with pain. His eyes burned holes in Arturia, but with his ears burning red themselves, she couldn't help but treat him to a smug smile.

Giving her hair ribbon a triumphant tug, she spun on her heel and marched back to her forgotten lunch, but not before she heard Gilgamesh's last hissed words to her.

"I swear by the Bull of Heaven, Arturia Pendragon, you will be mine."

She stopped for a moment, then shook her head and kept walking, laughing a little. _It's only my first day here and I'm already the object of an unrequited crush. Oh well. What's high school without romantic disasters?_


End file.
